


Company

by humanveil



Series: A Lesson in Love [2]
Category: Marvel, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Bullied Charles, Friendship, Gen, Loner Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik doesn't understand why the kid insists on sitting with him. It's not like they actually talk to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt: “you started sitting by me at lunch because i’m alone at my table but we never talk to each other.”

On Erik’s first day at his new school, a couple of kids had come up to where he’d been eating in the cafeteria and sat down. They’d continued to talk themselves up, telling him how they were part of the “cool” group, and that joining them wold inevitably make him popular.

Then they’d mentioned how joining them would keep the _mutant scum_ away from him.

Erik had smiled, rather vindictively, and clenched his hand into a fist, watching with satisfaction as he manipulated the metal in their seat to pull away from the table. Eyes alight with anger, he’d told them to fuck off.

They had, and soon enough, everyone had learnt that it was easier to just leave him alone.

It had been two years since that incident, and he’d sat by himself, tucked comfortably with his back against the wall at his corner table every day.

That was why Erik thinks he’s imagining things when he hears the scrape of metal against the dirty cafeteria floor, followed by the distinct sound of someone sitting in the seat across from him.

Confused and slightly annoyed, Erik lifts his eyes from the textbook he’d been reading to look at his new companion. Taking in the soft looking brown hair, pale skin, and clothes that managed to make the already small kid look even more out of place, Erik recognises him as the new kid. They share a few classes together, but Erik only remembers him because he recalls thinking how weird it was to transfer schools in your senior year.

The kid – Charles, his mind supplies – looks back at him quickly, his blue eyes shining brightly as he flashes a small smile before looking down again.

Erik doesn’t respond, just stares a little longer before shaking his head and returning to his own home packed meal. He knows he should tell the kid to piss off, but Charles is quiet, timid. He shouldn’t be too much trouble, and even if he is, Erik would easily be able to win in a fight.

Sighing, he flips through his physics textbook, telling himself that he’ll only let Charles sit with him this one time, just until the other boy finds his own group of friends to hang around with.

\---

Despite his intentions, _this one time_ turns into every day.

Charles had returned the next lunch, smiling at him once more before sitting down and minding his own business. Erik hadn’t been sure what to say, or think, and by the time he’d realised that he _should_ have told Charles to leave him alone, half of lunch had already passed and Erik believed he’d left it too late to say anything.

He’d left ten minutes before lunch had ended, cursing himself for smiling back at Charles when the younger boy had looked up questioningly, sinful red lips turned up in a smile. Brows furrowed, Erik had shook his head as he left the packed room, promising himself he’d say something the following day.

\---

Except that next day Erik’s English teacher had kept him behind to discuss a few things, and by the time he’d made it to the cafeteria, Charles was already sitting at his table, personal belongings sprawled across what Erik was starting to think of as Charles’ side of the table.

As was their routine, Charles had looked up at him when he sat down, smiled in acknowledgement, and returned to whatever textbook he’d been reading.

Erik hadn’t had the heart to say anything.

\---

Eventually, Erik realises that Charles hasn’t really made any friends, and that _this one time_ is no longer a possibility, that Charles would turn up at his table the next lunch, and the one after that, and so forth. Despite himself, Erik isn’t annoyed, not like he thought he would be.

He knows that Charles isn’t exactly popular. He’s the opposite, really, an easy target for teenage bigotry. He’s heard what some people call out to him, seen what they deface his locker with. It makes him angry, makes his blood boil, because the traits everybody seems to despise Charles for are incredibly similar to his own. He’s aware that they would do to him what they do to Charles if Erik didn’t stand up for himself the way he does.

For some reason he can’t explain, it makes him want to protect the kid. And he does, subtly.

He glares daggers at anyone who tries to pick on him in their shared classes, uses his power to dissemble the expansive bike of the jock that used pink spray paint to cover Charles’ locker with the word twink. And one time, when Charles had shown up to lunch with a black eye, he’d left early, talked to a few acquaintances to find the guy that had done it, and gave him a matching bruise.

He wasn’t sure if Charles knew of his actions, but if he did, the other boy hadn’t said anything about it.

\---

It goes on for about a month before curiosity gets the better of Erik and he can’t help but ask; “What are you doing?”

Charles looks up at him, face showing mild shock at being addressed. “Eating my lunch?” he replies, insecurity ensuring his reply sounds more like a question than an answer.

Erik thinks he can hear fear in the other boy’s accented voice – slight, but still there; almost as if he’s afraid of being rejected – but he ignores it. “Why?”

Charles tilts his head to the side, a tiny smile gracing his features as his eyes search Erik’s face before quietly replying, “I’m hungry.”

Erik sighs, growing increasingly annoyed at the kid’s obviously false obliviousness.  “Not what I meant,” he mutters, bringing a hand to run through his unkempt hair. “Why _here_? At this table, with me?”

“Because,” Charles shrugs, chewing mindlessly on a bit of apple. “Everywhere else is full, and I haven’t any friends to sit with.”

“But we never talk.”

“We’re talking right now.”

“ _Charles._ ”

The pale boy laughs quietly and rests his chin atop his hand, blue eyes gazing into Erik’s own icy ones. “Mute company is better than no company at all. Besides,” he says softly, lips stretched into a grin. “Sitting with you scares people into leaving me alone.”

Sighing, Erik runs a hand through his hair again. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbles awkwardly. “’suppose you can stay.”

“Brilliant,” Charles responds, eyes never leaving Erik’s face. “Do you suppose we can maybe start conversing like normal people, too?”

“I guess, yeah,” Erik replies, smiling back at him, fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.


End file.
